Memento Mori
by Kobal
Summary: Shiki's family is in shambles, and when an unknown enemy starts killing innocents, Rima is torn between her devotion to Shiki and the necessity of following Ichijo into a bloody game for his immortal life...RimaShikiIchijo... Dark...Etc.
1. Ascian

**Ok so I decided to commit myself to a longer VK story. This is my first time with these characters, so I hope they turn out alright.**

**I would also like to give a thank you to **Val-Creative **for being so nice and thoughtful in giving me advice about these characters.**

**I OWN NOTHING. Etc.**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 1<em>

_Ascian_

* * *

><p>You wake up quickly, awareness keen and sharp like a blade hits your nerves instantaneously. You bury your messy head into what should be plethora of pillows, now aware most of them strewn about the room—you suppose. Like the snap of a finger, you are awake, and you are aware.<p>

The scent of the body next to you, sprawled like a rag-doll, without a pillow, without consciousness, comes to you in erotic, numb wafts, blood pulsations without a heartbeat. You run your fingers through the thin, orange hair plastered to your face and stare across at the exposed hand, holding your knee tenderly. You would smile, if you needed to.

He has not left your room for days except to go to class, and even then, sometimes you come back to find him staring into the dresser mirror, checking his eyes because he is too scared to tell you Ichijo about something.

The antiquated clock on the bed-stand tells you it is time for class; time to rouse yourself from the silken sheet, and channel your thoughts into complex mathematical equations and ancient Roman history.

"Shiki."

He does not sleep soundly anymore.

Shiki does not say anything, just grips your knee tighter.

"You're awake." You brush his red hair out of his eyes, still closed. You move your fingers across his cold neck, running a nail along his veins. Vampires are pale, but Shiki's hair and dusty freckles make his skin practically glow in the shadows of your room.

You work your way across his collar bone, tracing a path across his naked chest. He has no heartbeat.

But a light press against his abdomen sends him into a frenzy.

Your visions spins, and you fall against the wooden headboard. Shiki has a firm grip on your elbows as he leans over you, sleep no longer clouding his eyes. "You're awake," You say again. You stare up at him, breathe him in. Shiki smells like he is hurting, to you. Like contorting his body against yours, like looking down at you, like the pressure against your inner thigh is a deep ache in his throat. "Thirsty?"

He still does not speak, merely shrugs and leans back on his legs. You stretch your arms over your head and look at your own limp legs, pleasingly spread around him. Your nightdress is far too short, far too sheer. You wonder how he could possibly not be thirsty for you.

But he pulls himself away, limbering off the bed in a groggy stupor and you wonder if he is faking it. Shiki always exhibits a quiet power, a protective sort of caring for you. And you wonder if his body is somehow not his own.

"Your mother won't hurt me," You tell him, without surprise in the earnest plea in your voice. "Even if she thinks I smell like plastic."

He still does not talk, just grabs his clothes from various places about your room. He opens the door, not bothering to look back at you before vanishing through it.

You are not surprised, for not much surprises you about Shiki anymore. You know about the one or two cracks of quirkiness that spread through the smooth, unworldly self. You now that he is not as expressive as others, and that he is jealous or Ichijo and Aido for being able to be so human but will never admit it.

Your feet hit the smooth, wooden floor thinking of Ichijo.

You tug the blankets back. You scour the corners of the room for the pillows Shiki threw; he cannot sleep with pillows. Opening your closet you take out the familiar white uniform. You lay it on the bed, nice and neat like doll clothes. You look at yourself in the mirror, still deathly, still beautiful. You brush your hair, undress, put on the uniform, put on make-up, pull your hair into even pigtails.

It is systematic. Everything you do is innately systematic. You have given up wondering whether or not your society would get bored with you. It matters, but then again it does not. You have made a life out of uselessness and eternity.

There is a knock at your door. You open it to find the smiling face of Ichijo. You have gotten used to his face, and the way it molds itself to suit your needs. This time, you look into sheepish green eyes and an embarrassed smile; a common expression on him, and he wears it well. "I come with exciting news," He says.

You raise an eyebrow, rapping on the door frame. "You're not dressed. Are classes canceled?" He is dressed formally, because Ichijo is always dressed formally, but he has a jacket on.

"No!" He says excitedly. "Well, the first half are…but Kaname-sama said there was dangerous Level E activity in the north part of town…and he didn't want to send the Discipline Committee, because, well, you know…"

"So he's sending his trusted manservant, Ichijo Takuma?" You ask, bored but sincerely hoping this is not Ichijo's idea of fun.

"Incorrect," He says with a grin, "he and I both think it would do Shiki some good to get out of your room."

You smile a sly little smile, and Ichijo catches it, a rosy color in his white cheeks.

"What's that look for?" You ask, smiling more.

"Pretty much just him," Ichijo says. "Anyway, we are going to leave as soon as you are ready."

"I _am_ ready."

"Oh, well, alright then. Shall we?" He offers his hand, and you take it, you feel the coldness through his fingers—it contrasts horrifically with his kind smile.

"My jacket." You let go and turn back into the room, grabbing a black pea-coat. You brush past Ichijo as you leave, stepping into the hallway and walking without looking back at him. You know he will follow.

In the evening light—especially in the dim, ethereal glow of the sun off the cobblestones, you dully focus on the dead beauty of the faces around you, and exhale the smell of devoted blood out your nostrils. You know the Day Class girls are eagerly waiting at the other end of the dorms, jumping and crying out for a greeting that will never come. In an hour or so, night will fall, and as you follow a boundless Ichijo down the path lined with dark pink flowers that will soon wilt with the cruel touch of frost, your eyes steadily grow sharper.

Ichijo is in front, chatting about some kind of new architecture, and you can tell there is no end in sight. On the other hand, you can feel Shiki, between you two, yawning in indirect protest, intent on not speaking a single word. You wonder if he is trying to apologize to Ichijo for abandoning him every night.

"It's going to rain again soon," You say, more to Shiki, but Ichijo hears and stops talking for a moment. The grass caves beneath your feet, still damp from the previous shower, and the clouds roll like a stampede of horses across the sky, thick and gray. "It hasn't stopped for days now."

"I miss the sun…" Ichijo says quietly.

You snort at him, and he smiles back, knowing full well the burning your skin feels when the sun touches it. You recall a photo shoot with Shiki: his shoulders cracked in an undead pain he could not explain.

The rest of the world does not touch you, while it seems Ichijo does not leave it. You would prefer to let the humans simply take pictures of you for themselves to keep. You cannot let the humans intrude on the world you were born into. But you are not in a place to decide the merger. You are bent to Kaname's will, as is everyone else attending the Academy. No matter how many photos are taken of you, you cannot let yourself disappear from both worlds with the rest of your loves as you would like to.

"Are you alright?"

You pause, mid-stride to look at Shiki, as he pauses for you, eyes flat and cool, as you always are. "Fine," You say. But he has not spoken for agonizing minutes, and you think it is precious that his first words are for you, so you add, "Thanks."

Ichijo is far ahead now, his gate is longer, and he bounces when he walks.

You reach the town, finally, no less breathless than when you awoke. And you smell the bacteria in the air thick with human oxygen. Chatter like restless bees reaches your ears and you can see them looking at you with glassy eyes. You can smell the blood in their cheeks. You hear a small giggle from the left and you move to Shiki's side. The people weave in and out of the shadows, only a stay number are left as the day comes to a close for them.

"Kaname-sama said it was on the northern edge of town. Near the old military barracks." Ichijo is already enjoying himself in the midst of the stifling smell of flesh and sweat. Ichijo enjoys humans. He enjoys their fleeting company and their fleeting emotions because he has never been able to allow himself to be so shallow.

But he tries.

You and Shiki follow Ichijo though the town. He rambles about buildings, trying to point out buttresses and stained glass and gargoyles to Shiki. You know the buildings and antiquated statues are just blurs to Shiki, but he pays attention anyway; even bothers to nod.

Suddenly, Shiki grabs your hand as a woman in silk pushes as rickety carriage across the cobblestone. You had smelled her, but her allusion had danced out of your brain. Shiki keeps walking, without looking at the woman, and after a quick glance, you hear her laughing to the smiling baby wrapped in a quilt. You can see its eyes in the darkness, tight and blue.

Ichijo stops walking, only to fall in stride with you two, on the other side of Shiki.

The mother and her child pass.

After a while, the markets and shops begin to fall away. People drift by less frequently, the tall buildings grow smaller—their paint chips. Grass sprouts up between the rocky road. The erosion withers more and more away. The northern end of the city was damaged beyond repair. Some kind of tragedy had struck long before your time, tearing apart walls and breaking down pillars. Now all that remained were old rows of small wooden houses built atop the damage by a militia who stood for the extermination of all vampires.

Kaname had driven them out.

You smell blood. Shiki tenses around your fingers and Ichijo springs ahead. The blood reeks from one little house in particular. It, like all the rest, has a porch ridden with holes, and no windows. But there is blood inside, and a small, lifeless chickadee nailed to the front door.

You give a small tug on Shiki's arm.

"I don't want to," He says.

But Ichijo is already on the front steps. You notice, for the first time, that he has his father's sword at his waist. You do not think he intends to wait.

Pulling Shiki along, you follow Ichijo. He opens the door, slowly.

You feel the air, thick around you like a bloody fog and you wonder why Kaname had thought this would be good for Shiki. Kaname knew about Shiki's mother. You think he must know how the madness of a Level E would bring Shiki back to his own doorstep.

Ichijo is framed in the entrance. You are close behind him, holding on to Shiki as tightly as he is hanging on to you. Ichijo moves forward, into the darkness of the house and you follow.

Before you can take it all in, Shiki suddenly drops away. He slams the door shut and leans against it, frozen.

You look around, already bored with the terrifying misery and horror of the house. You are standing in one large room, that probably consists of the entire house. In the center is a table, no chairs. The corpse of a human male, halfway through his life, you guess, is sprawled across it. The blood spilled out of him, seeping through the wood. Bite marks scar his neck and wrists. The floor is littered with dead birds. Feathers.

You say nothing, because nothing needs to be said. You simply stand and listen to the sound of the labored breathing of the Level E, a young boy, huddled against the wall, before Ichijo.

"What are you waiting for?" Shiki asks.

"Anything," Ichijo replies, unsheathing is sword.

Even in the darkness, you can see the boy. He's crying and laughing at the same time, all the while trying not to choke on his breath. You know his body and mind are descending into a bloodthirsty insanity.

"Was that man your father?" Ichijo asks.

The boy perks up in fear at the word _father_. His body moves too fast for him to realize. He is scrambling. You can find his path of travel it seems before he can. The boy runs around the table to his right, away from Ichijo, trying to make it to the door. You calmly step between him and Shiki. The boy tries to jump around you, his pretty face cut with claw marks, his hair falling out in pieces.

In one swift motion, you lunge at him, catching his shoulder. The bone, clasped in your fingers, is almost expanding and hardening.

The surge of electricity flows through your bones and into his. The room floods with the flash and crack of lightening. The boy explodes in a flurry of dust.

"Someone's outside."

His tattered clothes hit the ground in an instant. Dust splashes across your coat, almost like blood.

"Rima."

The whole house reeks of blood and dust and rotten flesh. Even in the midst of the aerial chaos, you can feel it too. The pressure of silence on the porch. The thirst pooling like a heavy gravity. Power. Smell. You can smell the lust. Vampire.

"Shiki—"

"Don't—"

He opens the door just as Ichijo cries out.

Nothing.

It is gone.

Ichijo lets out a breath. "That was close." He laughs, patting Shiki on the back, "It was nothing, I guess."

You know he is lying, and you know Shiki knows too. But you march over, "I got dust on my coat. It's new." You push Ichijo's sword out of the way and grab Shiki's wrist, dragging him outside.

The air is fresher. You let your lungs take it in. You let the wind burn your throat with the overwhelming desire for blood. You need to get Shiki out of here. You are uneasy. It makes you uneasy to feel Shiki stumble along behind you because you know in all his unearthly glory, all his freckled, silent uniqueness is still wounded. You think, as you turn back to see Ichijo emerge from the house, that vampires are by no means invincible. Time and love are in a constant battle with one another. Your society is harsh and critical, whimsical and cruel to the Noble children.

You catch Ichijo off guard, and see his intense expression. You know he is going to talk to Kaname. You know this was a mistake. Ichijo knows it too. Whatever was watching you, whatever Shiki almost saw, you know that Ichijo knows. Which means Kaname knows.

You tighten your grip on Shiki's sleeve, pulling harder.

The look on Ichijo's face changes. You recognize it as your own.


	2. Blind Freddy

**Alright! Here is chapter two! Please review if you like it! And even if you don't...**

**This chapter is considerably shorter than the first, but I've been planning the story for weeks now and I hope it gives the same feel and pacing that I intended.  
><strong>

**I don't own anything.**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Two<em>

_Blind Freddy_

* * *

><p>You are a vivid hypochondriac. Although no living ailment can touch you, you are silently and embarrassingly threatened by the fear of some untimely death. A death after decades of a blissful life where you want for nothing and receive everything.<p>

In calm darkness of the library, you breathe in the dust. Heels clicking the shiny, wooden floor, you listen to the other footsteps weaving between the bookshelves.

The library is immersible; a treasure-trove of ancient texts, religious and industrious, medical and in one small corner, fictional. Almost anything can be found here, anything except tombs of vampires, much to your sour dismay.

"Shiki must have been really tired," Ichijo says, somewhere to your right. "He went straight to bed."

Vaguely, you wonder which bed.

You turn the pages of your medical dictionary, fearing you may have an avoidant personality disorder.

"I fear the other night may have been a mistake…"

You fold the upper corner of the page down, carefully. "What did Kaname-sama tell you?" You ask, impatience building like an orchestra in your chest.

Ichijo's face appears in a space on the other side of the shelf, directly above you. "He does not tell me as much as you seem to think. Kaname-sama is a very complicated person."

"And we are not?" You ask it casually, since you are used to testing Ichijo's waters. He is used to your intrusions. You press yourself against the bookshelf, towering like a floor-to-ceiling tree, keeping you from falling. "Something was there. Something that almost hurt Shiki."

You see Ichijo's fingers rap the shelf, "I know."

"It could have hurt him."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Ichijo smiles sadly. "I would have protected you both."

"I'm not incompetent, Takuma."

"I know." He looks apologetic, but it does not reach his eyes. You wonder why nothing ever reaches his eyes.

You know Ichijo moves flawlessly between the human world and the vampire world. He is simply angelic. You know about his embarrassed kindness and hidden loyalties and you long to be a part of it. You long to be a part of everything with Ichijo.

Sharply, you push the books around Ichijo's face to the floor. He jumps, and you remain still. "Tell me what another vampire was doing there." They clatter, in a flurry of paper and dust.

"It's really nothing to worry about," He almost pleads. "Kaname-sama—"

"Doesn't know how to help people."

You raise yourself to the tips of your toes so that your faces are almost touching.

"He doesn't know how to help Shiki."

You feel no breath against your cheeks, no warmth of lips. You just smell his fingertips, his nose, his neck. Carefully, you move your thin hand up through the shelf, pulling on Ichijo's collar.

"We are the only ones who can do that."

He does not pull away, merely lowers his head, blond hair falling over his eyes. "Forever?" He asks.

"Until we drift into our own imaginations, until we grow incapacitated by delusions, until we run out of blood to give, until world becomes bored with us."

You can feel Ichijo's collar bone through his dress shirt, cold and sharp. His arms are limply at his sides, shoulders hunched, neck weak; he looks up, "I would never get bored of you."

You let go of him.

It only takes a few seconds for you to dart around the aisle to find him. Lazily, you grab his icy hand, pulling him like a doll to the lounge.

A room to the far left of the main library, the lounge was filled with velvet sofas and ornate little alcoves where people could sit and study. You pick a brown leather chair by a window, clothed in cream-colored curtains.

Potted plants line every window, paintings cover the walls. You push him down into the chair and lean against the cold window, behind him, it is the only thing in the room colder than you.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Takuma."

"I like stories," He says cheerfully.

You wrap your arms around yourself, like a shield. "Once upon a time, there was a family. A father, a mother, and a son." You know the story by heart. "They were a family of vampires. The father was a Pureblood. A very dark, terrible man who enjoyed making people unhappy. He did a lot of bad things to the mother." This story is a part of you. "He tortured his family for years." You move, situating yourself atop the chair, legs over Ichijo's left shoulder, while your back is still pressed against the thin glass. "Until one day, the little boy ran away. He left his mother and his father and just ran. The vampire society spent ages looking for him, oblivious to his troubles. But they did not find the boy…do you know who did?"

"No," Ichijo answered quietly.

"A human woman. She was enchanted by the little boy. He had the most unique face she had ever seen and she knew from that moment that she wanted to take a picture of him. But of course she inquired as to whose son this was, and the vampire society found him once again and the little boy fell into the clutches of his father. Bu then things changed. The father did something unforgivable. He murdered two very important people and went away." You play, coolly with the back of Ichijo's neck, running your fingers up and down the base. "That's when the little boy's mother broke. She lost her mind, mad with fear. The boy went years trying to take care of her. But then he too, went away."

"To a school?"

"To a school, for vampires."

"How does the story end?" Ichijo asks as he leans his soft head against your knees.

"It doesn't."

You slide down, fluidly landing in Ichijo's lap and face him without a sound. He leans back into the leather with a quiet breath.

"No matter how sad it gets, that story will never have an ending, because the protagonist will never die. Neither will the people who love him."

You do not feel disturbed by your life, merely apprehensive. You keep waiting for something to strike you, for some kind of pain, or pleasure or epiphany to shake you from your tower of immortality.

So you wait, and lower your head to Ichijo's ear, "Please love him forever." You bury your face into the crook of his neck, smelling the murky, delicious scent of the blood rushing through his veins. You are so close, his blood is not the only thing you smell. His bones, his wholesome flesh and radiant eyes and lips all compile themselves into a delicious monster.

Slowly, Ichijo's arms reach across your back, holding you close. So close, but you cannot hear the heart that does not beat. "You are so silly," He says. You feel him around you, somehow so fragile and strong at the same time, he resonates with power. He runs his fingers through your hair, pushing it behind your ear.

You pull back, far enough to glare into his eyes, then wrinkle your nose, throwing your forehead against his, tightening your grip on his shirt. "I am not silly."

Ichijo pulls his hands away, and you can read the shame on his face. You know his guilt is more real than any of his other emotions. You stare into his green eyes, so full and clouded. "And _I_ am not going to live forever."


	3. Contrite

**We have a very short chapter this time-sorry, that's just how it turned out.**

**Please review, if you feel like it. **

**I own nothing.**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Three<em>

_Contrite_

* * *

><p>"You smell nice," Shiki tells you.<p>

"Ichijo and I were in the library, getting the notes for class." You toss several sheets of paper across your bed. Shiki does not move from under the pile of covers. "It's early in the morning…shouldn't you be asleep?"

"It's hard to sleep without you."

You cannot see his face, only hear that muffled voice you enjoy so much: all the pitches and tones, echoes and murmurs, hisses and whispers. You know Shiki depends on you, he would just prefer to not be vocal about it. You know Shiki is not vocal about anything.

Your body does not ache from the day, your head does not hurt. "Close your eyes, I'm changing." You do not feel exhaustion, and you almost do not feel comfort as you peel your uniform off, neatly folding it and placing it in your dresser drawer. "Where is my nightgown?"

"Under your pillow."

"Are your eyes still closed?"

You tell yourself that you are not embarrassed, that your bond with Shiki is far too solid for your knobby knees to break. Shiki is too solid for you to break.

You quickly pull the white silk from underneath the only pillow on your bed, tugging it over yourself in a mad fury.

Shiki lets out a low wolf-whistle and you take out your pigtails. You have always been jealous, because you cannot whistle.

The sun peeks through your curtains coyly, you make sure they completely hide the window. "Are you ever going back to _your_ room?" You climb onto your bed, kneeling before Shiki's submerged face. "Takuma is worried."

Slowly, almost clumsily, Shiki reaches out a hand to your hip, resting on it gently.

"That is not an answer. Is there something you want to tell Takuma?"

"Yes."

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

He turns his head so you can finally see his face. It is as blank as yours is.

"Tell me about your mother."

Shiki rises to lean on his elbows, still on his stomach. "You already know everything."

"I want to know about her." You say, "So that I can help you."

He leans forward, tossing his head into your lap. He wraps his arms around your waist. "I smell Takuma on you. That is why you're so nice. You're not nice," He mumbles into your thigh. He exhales, and you watch the air ripple across your nightdress for a moment.

"Are you thirsty?"

Shiki opens his mouth, letting white fangs graze the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Well look at you now…Careful, someone's going to smell it…"

The prick only lasts a second, a sharp puncture you can feel down your spine, and the red begins to flow. Only a few small rivers, but Shiki's tongue is there, slowly and gently, across your magic skin. This, you do not feel in your spine. His saliva racks your body the way any other joy cannot. You grip his shoulders, pushing him into you.

You have healed by now, the skin has closed up, and the blood is gone, but Shiki's lips still remain. Their pressure rises and falls. Your own blood ebbs and flows inside your skin. You sit up, and his hands move lower, they lock behind the bony knees you are balanced on.

He moves up your thighs, his mouth plotting invisible points along your hard angles. Finally, he is at the bone that juts out from your hip, the impossibly skinny waist. He has your nightgown fisted and raised. You curl your toes against the bed sheets.

"Shiki…are you alright?"

You stare at the top of his messy, red head. This creature, this lovely, powerful creature was trying to communicate with you. When he pulls you into a hug, his face pressed against your stomach, you think maybe he has been trying to tell you something all along. Something you thought you did not need to know. But then, you know that you need to know everything Shiki has to offer.

"She threw herself into the fireplace."

You dig your fingers into his hair.

"But one of our servants found her."

You try and imagine what Shiki's heart would be doing if it were beating in his chest. If maybe the tempo would be erratic, or steady. You have long forgotten what a heartbeat sounds like.

"I shouldn't have left her alone."

"I don't want to hear about the present," You say absentmindedly, tugging on the back of Shiki's hair. He pulls away, a blank look in his eyes. You study his disheveled clothes, and messy hair, "How are you sleeping?"

"I remember, clearly, when I was young, my mother would sit with my in the dining room. She would have borrowed our chef's cleaver and lay towels across the table. She tried to show me what immortality is."

You fall down, against your sheets, but you hand snakes around his, and you hold him firmly.

"I guess she lost her mind a long time ago."

"You're nothing like your father," You say, hoping that those are the words he wants to hear, that maybe, you can finally say the words he needs to hear, even after all these years.

"I think you're wrong."

You know that you are.


	4. Dacnomania

**Hello there! Here is the fourth chapter, for **Val Creative **and anyone else who is reading...haha. **

**I do not own Vampire Knight.**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Four<em>

_Dacnomania_

* * *

><p>"I don't see how humans can eat this."<p>

You look up from your expensive ice cream to see Shiki, disgusted with the frozen sugar. "Just enjoy it," You coo, waving your spoon at him. "Don't waste this day."

Shiki grudgingly shoves the spoon in his mouth, shuddering over-dramatically.

"Are you tired?" You ask, intentionally letting your words fall with a sense of interest. "I cannot believe that photographer took us to that warehouse…the dust is going to kill him."

Shiki does not say anything, merely glares at the ice cream. You wonder, briefly, if he is trying to melt it with sheer intensity alone. But you know Shiki does not feel intensity for most inanimate beings, so you shrug it off. "What do you think about our new ethics teacher?" He asks, finally breaking his gaze.

"Yagari-sensei?"

"Don't be so formal…"

"Yagari-_sensei_, he seems…complicated." You let your own sharp eyes land on the bright red cherry you have saved. It lingers, almost sadly, at the bottom of your glass dish. "But I really could not care less about a human."

"Kaname-sama seems to," Shiki adds. You can tell he is staring at you, but your eyes never leave the cherry. It is so red, it reminds you of blood.

Gently, you lift your spoon.

"Do you think he has something to do with the…vampire the other day…in town?"

In one fell swoop, you puncture the cherry. The spoon is blunt and simple, but you have split the skin, half expecting red life to dribble out.

"Rima…"

You hate cherries.

"Did Takuma tell you something," He begins, "that you are not supposed to know?"

You inhale, breaking your eyes away from the fruity carcass. "Takuma doesn't tell me anything he doesn't want to." You feel a jealous smile cross your face, "What about you? You slept with him last night."

Neither of you two breathe for a moment, and you merely close your eyes to the truth before a grotesque scent wafts into the restaurant.

"Can you smell it?"

"Don't be stupid."

A second later, there is yelling outside. The sound of bouncing carts and clicking feet seem to freeze. Shiki leans back in his seat, breathing in, "A horse."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see several customers jump from their seats. After they fling the door open, the smell bursts into the restaurant like an aerial flood. Rotting flesh, maggots.

"What's going on?" Someone outside shouts.

Conversations buzz and hum outside, you can hear every terrified word vibrate through the walls.

Shiki stands, leaving his ice cream almost unmarred, "Let's check it out."

"Since when do you care about dead animals?" You ask, getting to your feet none the less and pulling your coat over an unwrinkled silk blouse, with a small frown.

"The awful smell is ruining my appetite."

"But you weren't eating it…"

You smile, softly, almost unsure because your stomach is actually moving with the air. But Shiki catches your eyes, "I don't smell blood."

The horse may have been beautiful: skin once the creamy brown of melted chocolate, a white streak running down its face. But know, you take in the horse and know it was killed by a vampire. The skin is wrinkly; a tattered rag of horsehair atop brittle bones that pierce the limp skin. Eyes sunken so far back you cannot see them, the animal has been drained of every drop of blood.

"This is the second one this week," Someone murmurs to your left.

The crowd forms an awkward circle, people dodging in and out for air. The street is packed with bodies, their voices ringing and shouting and giving you a headache.

You step back, letting a woman with a basket of vegetables pass you and lean against the stone wall of a textile shop. The smell is repulsive with no blood to clog the flies and maggots. You wonder vaguely if Kaname knows. And you cannot help but grow uneasy knowing there are more hungry vampires outside the walls of the Academy.

Shiki has not moved from his spot in the circle that surrounds the horse. You see his shoulders hunched in concentration.

"Who would do this to an animal?"

"How terrible…"

"What a sick thing to do…"

Shiki straightens, weaving seamlessly through the crowed. He places his right hand above your head and leans close, "The skin itself is too mangled to tell where exactly it was bitten. But there is a break in the neck, they can't see a bite mark."

"So this vampire wants to stay anonymous to the townspeople?" You ask, more uncaring than confusion in your voice. You do not like horses up close; they belong in paintings and pictures.

"We need to tell Kaname-sama. He needs to know that there is a vampire out there who might expose us, or start killing people."

Suddenly, you remember the ice cream, and shrug it off. "I need some tablets," You groan. But before you can pull yourself off the wall, Shiki leans closer. You feel useless lungs pumping oxygen through his chest. You feel the pressure of his body against yours.

"You can take some of mine," He offers. Staring up, you see his forehead pressed against yours. "We can find somewhere…"

"No Shiki." The worse come out almost before your brain tells them to. "We need to talk to Kaname-sama before we try to lure the vampire out of hiding."

You might have been more hurt if Shiki had offered your blood up as bait, and somehow you did not know. You are glad for the honesty in the years between the two of you and for a brief moment, before the crowd follows the horse as it is carried away to be buried, you feel the possessiveness in Shiki's clear blue eyes quicken the oxygen in your own flimsy lungs.

The outside of a vampire's body is far stronger than the inside. As Shiki brings his left hand up, brushing slightly at your shoulder before tugging gently on a piece of your golden hair, you barely feel it. What sensation might have felt like to a human is amplified and twisted to your own senses. Any inner turmoil is locked inside a vampire's body, left for years to build against the thick, unworldly skin.

"What are you trying to prove?" You ask, more tentatively than you had intended. "What do you care if these humans lose their livestock, or even their lives…"

But Shiki pulls away, tugging on your hand weakly. "Let's go then," He offers.

The coldness of Shiki's hand is always calming, to you. In fact, everything he does offers a sort of relaxing breath of reality. You are used to reality, though you never seem to pinpoint it when you are not around Shiki. People like Ichijo or Kaname seem to make you forget about reality. But even now, as you turn back to see the townspeople scurrying about, and as the smell of the dead horse still lingers in your nostrils, you cannot escape the reality that there is another vampire out there, and now it is Kaname's move.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review if you have time. <strong>


	5. Ebullition

**Here is the fifth chapter. As I was writing, it had been my intention to write a series of chapters before I posted them. This, however, did not work out so well. **

**I hope you enjoy it.**

**I do not own Vampire Knight.**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Five<em>

_Ebullition_

* * *

><p>The vase is French, porcelain with a domed lid that is surmounted by a <em>bacchic putto<em>, decorated with scenes of festivities. It has a vine-cast rim flanked by acanthus handles, on a spreading socle and lobed foot.

You hear each individual piece as it crashes to the ground.

"After all these years," Takuma sighs, "they still fight the same way."

The three of you wait, casually on the velvet sofa outside Kaname's office. The wide hallway serves as a waiting room; in the corners beside the door, atop whatnots, sit simple glass vases, very much unlike the one that Kaname keeps in his own privacy, which hold briefly, several white flowers. Kaname states that he merely enjoys the plainness of them, but you all know that the scent is used to diffuse the madness of bloodlust.

"Kaname-sama very much liked that vase…" Ichijo says somberly.

"Takuma, why are you _here_?" Shiki asks, more questioning Ichijo's position between you and Shiki than asking for an explanation as to why he has to sit in on every meeting with Kaname.

"It's all part of my job as Vice-President," Takuma says happily. "Also," he grins at Shiki, "every moment I spend with you is priceless."

"Just like that vase," You add. "What has Aido done?"

"He froze the pond in the forest. All the way to the bottom. Killed all the fish and even a few birds in broad daylight." Takuma sounds as though he is reading from a script that does not belong to him. You notice a hint of admiration somehow, in his voice. "A day class student saw it. The poor boy had to have his memory erased."

"Why did Aido do it?" You ask.

"It is not my place to tell," He smiles back.

You hear quick footsteps and Aido pushes the doors open, for a split second, you see the frustration on his face, but he folds it down, and smooths out his expression. "Sorry to keep you waiting," He spits.

"Oh, it's no trouble," Takuma bounces to his feet only to have Aido push him aside as he storms down the hall. Takuma's eyes follow him for a second before they fall back to you, and then Shiki. "Shall we?"

He leads you into the dark room. The only light is peeping through the two large windows behind Kaname's desk; it ricochets off of Seiren's silver hair, glowing like a silvery lamp shade. The rest of the room is clouded with a shadow. The bookshelves, that line the two walls to your left and right are clean of dust and any type of scent, in fact, the room does not smell of anything at all.

Takuma steps over the shattered vase, and over the large puddle of water underneath it. "Sorry to disturb you."

Kaname looks tired, still in control of every motion and every thought, but his voice sounds uncharacteristically weary as he answers, "What news do you have?"

Takuma steps back, giving you an encouraging glance.

"Shiki and I were in town," You begin, "and then we heard a commotion, and the townspeople brought in a dead horse. All its blood had been drained. The people said this was the second time this has happened in a week. Also, there were gashes all along the creature's body, my Lord." You turn to Shiki.

"On the neck," He mumbles. "There were no visible bite marks."

You stand in silence, eyes lock on Kaname and you wait. If nothing else, Kaname has taught you patience.

"Where were you exactly?" He asked, resting his cheek in his palm, eyes half open.

"The east side of town," You reply, "in the shopping district."

Kaname rises to his feet, untangling himself from his black dress shirt, he nods to Ichijo, "I'm going to make an announcement to everyone."

You try to sneak a look at Ichijo, but he does not see you.

As Kaname makes his way down the hall, the emptiness of the dorm begins to erode into an awakening of the graceful demons the students really are. You can feel their presence through the walls, down the marble staircase, beneath the floor. Figures become alert, and the entire collection of vampires lies in wait in the dorm lobby. Kaname glides down the stairs, Ichijo close behind. You and Shiki continue to walk even when they stop.

With the entire Night Class before him, Kaname begins: "I have some troubling news for you all. It seems there has been an outbreak of attacks in the town recently. First in the military barracks, and now animals are turning up, bloodless."

Shiki rests himself against the back of a green couch, upon which Aido had been sprawled mere seconds ago before Kaname had entered. You notice Shiki staring intensely at Ichijo, who waits behind Kaname like a statue.

"Ruka, Kain, I would like you two to comb the west side of the town, I'm sure there will be livestock there. Seiren is going to take the south end were the industrial center is. And Takuma, I want you to check back north and visit the barracks again. I will check with the Chairman to see if he has any news. Be back at midnight, all of you." And with that, he turns and heads up the stairs, almost somberly.

"Why don't I get to go?" Aido groans.

"Because you are incompetent," Ruka snaps.

You watch Aido stiffen in anger, but he lets it go.

Shiki follows you to your room, looking a bit dazed. The two of you step inside, and you breathe in your own expensive yet barely-there scent and slip out of your jacket. "I guess the sun did come out after all…"

"You're out of tablets," Shiki says, picking up the pack from your dresser. "Looks like you'll have to borrow mine."

You do not bother to look at him, merely yourself in the full-length mirror: the simple white skirt and the jet-black sweater suddenly seem too hot to wear, despite the normally cloudy weather. You plop yourself down on the bed, sinking into the silk. Limberly, you bend down and untie your high, black leather boots.

You finally glance at Shiki after stretching your toes into the ground. He is dressed loosely, for your liking. "Fine," You say, pushing past him and into the hallway. Without your shoes, you pad down through the female wing and cross onto the opposite side.

Shiki's and Ichijo's room is easy to find. Room number twenty-two. It is the only one with a _welcome _mat before the door.

You push it open, easily. It is never locked. The room is split into two distinct personalities. Shiki, who keeps a small box of pocky and other food at his desk, along with photo albums and portfolios stacked neatly under his bed. Ichijo, on the other had, has papers and books strewn about the floor and bed with surprising casualty. There texts on religion, science, and history all reeking their antiquity about the air; lastly, the most surprising aspect of Ichijo's half was the large sword, hung over his bed.

Shiki steps over to his desk, opening the wooden box and taking out a pack of blood tablets. "I can get you some water," He offers.

But you notice, as he drops two small, white tablets, into your hand, a thin glass of milk on Ichijo's bedside table. "I'll use that." You sit down on Ichijo's bed with the glass and pills in your hand and swallow them in a rush, but the taste of the milk lingers. It's warm, from being left out for an unidentifiable period of time, but you see Ichijo's fingerprints against the rim, and you smile to yourself.

You look up at Shiki, who is suddenly bent over, one hand resting on your hip, the other limply at his side. "You have some…" He leans in, brushing his mouth against your upper lip.

You are comforted more than you have been in a while, between Ichijo's bed and Shiki's body. Familiarity surrounds you at every angle and you take it all in, letting it seep into your skin and into your nose and throat. You set the glass down on the nightstand before reaching up to tug on Shiki's dress shirt, protruding casually from his pants. "Take better care of yourself," You say.

"What would you do if I never cut my hair again?" He asks.

You let your lips smile, "I'd cut it for you."

"What if I ran so you couldn't catch me?"

"You hate running."

"What if I hid?"

"You'd get bored."

"What if you couldn't find me?"

The door clicked open, and you freeze as Ichijo stands in the doorway, "Hello," he grins.

Shiki sighs and shrugs, "I thought you had forgotten something."

"My sword," Ichijo laughs sheepishly. "Just in case." He moves carelessly around you and Shiki, towards the head of his bed as he pulls the sword gently from the wall. As he turns to leave you see him ponder the glass of milk for a second. "Rima…"

"Yes."

"This is my last glass," He pouts, clutching the sword as if it were the only thing he could hold on to. "The farmer that I get it from said the cows are getting sick. I'm so worried…"

"Takuma," Shiki said firmly.

"What?" He asks, face a perfect display of confusion and curiosity.

"Come back safely."

You nod, wishing you could say something but knowing that Shiki has already said it.

"Of course!" Ichijo laughs. "I'll see you both in the morning."


	6. Floccinaucinihilipilification

**Ah-ha. Chapter Six. Please review, if you're up for it.**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Six<em>

_Floccinaucinihilipilification_

* * *

><p>Despite the iron fist you have to restrain your emotions, you can clearly remember and somehow simulate them at will. Fear, while not the easiest to explain, or the most common, is certainly the most painful. Its mere infrequency is enough to disturb any vampire, for fear is not something often felt. Even as a child, when the world was much younger and you saw more gore throughout the centuries than humans can even dream, you knew your boundless immortality would somehow protect you. There were always elders, looking after you, always a human to praise you for doing nothing; Shiki was always there too.<p>

And now, as you sit, in fear in the lobby of your dorm room, Shiki is across from you on a purple couch, eyes fixated on a red smudge on a glass table.

The only sound is the quick, punctual ticking of Aido's watch.

"Three hours," He says sharply. Aido sprawls himself across your sofa, throwing a pillow onto your lap and falling into it more dramatically than he needs to. "I would have even gone with Seiren." He is pouting now. "Why does Ruka get to go? She hates this sort of thing…"

"There is no need for that," You say, patting his head and allowing yourself some humor. "There, there…"

"To Hell with all of you…" He mumbles.

The moments pass slowly, three hours becomes four, and no one has tried to start conversation.

"I would've even gone with Takuma…" Aido has never been acute to the concept of time. "I sorta just wanna see that sword in action."

"It's just a sword," Shiki says, defensively.

"So Kaname-sama can just send Takuma and Seiren out on their own but he leaves you two to look after me? Horse feathers…"

"Kaname-sama is just moving his pieces around," You tell him, letting your fingers run down his sweater-clad arms. "He does everything for a reason." Aido pouts into your leg and you roll your eyes at Shiki, who, in turn, simply nods.

"Sometimes I hate Kaname-sama." Aido says it lightly, as if it is merely a passing thought that he himself has not put much thought into. "He is allowed to not trust us, or to treat us like the pieces of a board game, but I always hope that he won't."

You are incapable of consoling anyone, least of all Aido, who needs people to throw themselves at his feet in order to remind him of how important he is. And you do not look to Shiki, because you know that you are the only person Shiki can console. "Something is clouding your sense of respect," You say. "Stop second-guessing him. As much as you want to taste real blood, do not seek out victims. As much as you crave attention, do not reveal us. And Aido, do not make the mistake of thinking Kaname-sama is the same as us, or feels the same things we do."

"I can't just let myself be a pawn—"

The giant, double doors swing open, and Ruka prances in, Kain several steps behind. Both look tired, and as if they are relieved to be back in the dooms, smelling the familiarity.

"That was a colossal waste of time," Ruka hisses.

Aido leaps to his feet, "What did you guys find?"

Kain runs his fingers through his hair, "That Ruka has poor negotiation skills when it comes to humans…"

Ruka's shoulders tense for a moment but she shrugs, "They are all so stupid. I swear their memory drains exponentially as they sleep—it's a clean slate the very next day. They barely remember what they were wearing and who they were with…some didn't even remember the victims…incompetent."

"They are more apt to believe there is a psychopath running around slaughtering animals than a vampire," Kain sighs. "What about the Level E that the two of you exterminated, any reaction?"

You look at Shiki, but he seems to be lost in thought. "It did not seem as though the towns people even noticed. We did not ask…"

"Maybe the victims were from another town?" Ruka suggests, crossing her arms and staring hard at the floor. "Then maybe this new vampire was chasing them…"

"Why _them_?" Aido asks. "Why would a vampire track two worthless humans?"

There is a silence in the air and you can hear everyone's mind darting to different conclusions. You find yourself fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

"Let's wait until everyone gets back," Shiki says, calmly. "We are obviously missing something."

"It's almost midnight," Aido says, checking his watch. "Takuma and Seiren should be back any minute."

You think that perhaps Shiki can smell your fear; maybe everyone can. But you remember this feeling from the day the vampire stood outside the thin, wooden door, smelling blood.

Vampires rarely smell of blood. More common, is the absence of smell, or maybe a thin layer of plastic, chemical life on their lips. But you are aware of each of your vampire kin's smells, the little traces of human on their skin or on their clothes when they brush against a mortal, or feel the scents left by the wind.

When Seiren enters the dorm, at exactly midnight, she brings with her the reek of oil and a calm look of stone. "I have information," She says calmly.

"Speak!" Aido cries.

"Where is Kaname-sama?" She asks without searching your faces.

"We are trying to collect the information then present it to him," Kain says, leaning against the banister. "What news from the industrial district?"

"Not all the workers are from the same town," Seiren began, adjusting her posture so she stood perfectly straight. "I arrived at the beginning of their night shift. I spoke with seven of them. One was from a town farther north. He told me of a priest who had gone missing about two weeks ago. Their town is in an uproar."

"It's rare that the Church would get so close to the Academy…" Ruka mutters, pulling at her hair almost impulsively.

"It is passed midnight," Seiren says. You notice that she does not look at anyone in particular when she talks casually, or as casually as she can. "We must talk with Kaname-sama. Ichijo-san will meet with him when he arrives. We should not wait." She begin to walk and you notice how robotic and precise all her step are, even for a vampire, she is innately graceful.

Kain turns to Ruka, shrugging. "Will you guys be waiting up?"

You nod, and you feel Shiki do the same. You will not move from this place. But as you watch the three of them move up the stairs, you turn to Shiki. "Maybe he is saving a cat in a tree…"

"Ah…" Aido groans loudly and falls into the sofa. "I wanna be out there, fighting."

"Don't be unrealistic," You tell him, sitting down beside him. "The others would have smelled blood."

You notice Shiki, refusing to let himself sit. Instead, he remains poised and intense at the door, fingers almost digging into the back of your sofa.

"Suppose the vampire came back…" Shiki says, carefully. "Takuma is probably the best one to confront him."

"The most patient," You add.

"The most kind."

"The most foolish," Aido finishes. "In all honestly. Ichijo is the worst representative of us."

"You are easily the worst representative of this school," You tell him, sternly. A strange defensive ache crawls into your chest. "You are by far the least patient, and the least kind."

Aido does not talk after that. He merely shrugs and looks the other way, a thin hand under his sour expression. Still, his wristwatch keeps track of the seconds that Ichijo is not with you.

"Are you worried?" Shiki asks. From behind, he nudges the thin space between your shoulder blades with his elbow, tenderly. "Or, more likely, do you wish you where there?"

Aiso pushes his hand harder into his face and you sigh, "This place isn't _home_ to me, but if it is to anyone else, I would see to it that they come home safely."

Aido snorts, "No one here thinks of this worthless academy as their home." He stands, stretching, taking his watch up the stairs with him .

You do not need to say anything to Shiki as he sits beside you, in Aido's place. You just tug gently on his sleeve and he leans against your shoulder, letting out a breath. "Don't be worried," He says. "My home is not a walled structure with staircases and paintings and carpets from Tuscany. My home is two people who open their arms to me. I will wait until they are with me."

"You don't have to wait," You say, letting your fingers crawl across Shiki's arm. "The Day Students' classes don't start for hours…We could go for a walk…through the forest."


End file.
